


why we ever

by jellifisho



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Dalton Academy, M/M, until it’s not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellifisho/pseuds/jellifisho
Summary: How it all went down (or: seasons 3 & 4 of Glee from Sebastian's point of view).--The world is a plastic dollhouse, and it is Sebastian’s to manipulate.For the first seventeen years of his life, he has no reservations about bullying, blackmail, or assault. His words drip silver, melodious and resonant, and they sound as sweet and syrupy as honey when they fall from his lips. It is easy to pull strings and make things go his way if he wants them to, and most of the time he does. It’s better like this, he thinks; when people leave him behind, he no longer has to waste time wondering why. The answer is simple, and regrets are light and easy to carry if he doesn’t dwell on them too much.Then comes Blaine Anderson.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	why we ever

**Author's Note:**

> rated teen for some mild language and a few short mentions of sex (nothing explicit).
> 
> warnings: there's a very brief and vague mention of karofsky's suicide attempt (i just say that he's in the hospital). also, because this story is from sebastian's point of view and because kurt is a (mostly minor) character in it, he might sometimes make a few unfriendly comments about/towards him. there's many spoilers as well if you haven't finished watching the show. i think that's all, but if anyone wants me to add any other warnings please let me know and i will do so! :)
> 
> the title is from hayley williams’ ["why we ever."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jC-iHdy41k) (i picked this song as a title for a few specific lyrics; the song itself is a bit sad, and not all of it necessarily relates to the story and sebastian/blaine's relationship.) 
> 
> i also took a few lines from my [blog](https://nothingrhymeswithcircus.wordpress.com/). 
> 
> some dialogue is lifted directly from the show. i tried to edit bits of it so it isn't exactly the same, but i also left some of them alone. any dialogue quoted from glee can be watched in these clips below:
> 
> [blaine meets sebastian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4_QwLmljgc)  
> [kurt meets sebastian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUcxLmrkRHg)  
> [kurt and sebastian don't like each other](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sw2mM36r7r0)  
> [nd talk about michael and sebastian shows up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b45jq46NhTQ)  
> ["smooth criminal" conversation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZyLmn2moMM)  
> ["black or white" conversation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARtM7YgpGr0)  
> [sebastian's apology](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-Ftg4KoYNs)  
> [blaine meets hunter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2QDmffcd34)  
> ["dark side" conversation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5byX31-5LKU)
> 
> i don’t own glee, any of its characters, and any of the dialogue/plot from the show.
> 
> also, it's been a while since i watched the show so i hope i didn't get any major plot points wrong. i tried my best. :(

The world is a plastic dollhouse, and it is Sebastian’s to manipulate.

For the first seventeen years of his life, he has no reservations about bullying, blackmail, or assault. His words drip silver, melodious and resonant, and they sound as sweet and syrupy as honey when they fall from his lips. It is easy to pull strings and make things go his way if he wants them to, and most of the time he does. It’s better like this, he thinks; when people leave him behind, he no longer has to waste time wondering why. The answer is simple, and regrets are light and easy to carry if he doesn’t dwell on them too much.

Kindness, to him, is naivety. This he knows from experience, and he doesn’t want to be trodden upon again.

\--

The first time Sebastian meets Blaine Anderson, he’s leaning against a doorframe, dressed in a striped, gray cardigan and a bowtie. His hair is neatly tamed with gel, except for where small curls escape near his temples. His eyes are hazel and tender, warmer than Sebastian had imagined them to be. He gently tugs on Blaine’s arm to pull him into the performance that Nick is leading the Warblers in. Blaine smells like raspberries.

Sebastian hadn’t prepared for all these small, endearing details. He’s heard a lot about Blaine Anderson—about his voice and his good looks and his kindness. The Warblers tell him that Blaine was their lead soloist last year. Everyone seems to adore him—they describe him as friendly and helpful and talented, and no one is jealous or envious when they speak.

They mention Blaine’s boyfriend, too. The boy who convinced him to leave Dalton. Sebastian doesn’t miss the lingering resentment that is apparent in their voices.

 _Blaine’s boyfriend is insignificant,_ he reminds himself as he realizes just how pretty Blaine is. It’s been a long time since Sebastian has met a boy that couldn’t be convinced to join him between the sheets some way or another, and right now he wants this boy.

“Blaine Anderson,” Sebastian says when the song is over and the room has mostly cleared out, extending out a hand that Blaine shakes firmly. His skin is as soft as the smooth velvet of flower petals. It suits him. “I'm Sebastian Smythe.”

“Hi,” Blaine says. His voice is polite but mildly confused and wary. “Your voice gave me chills. Are you a freshman?” he asks.

“Do I look like a freshman?” He knows he’s coming on strong, but it seems to work in his favor because Blaine is blushing and smiling and stammering and looking down at his shoes.

Blaine’s easily flustered, he learns when they continue their conversation over coffee. Shy smiles bloom across his lips several times as Sebastian peppers flirtatious compliments into his words.

“I was like, ‘I don’t know who this Blaine guy is, but apparently he’s sex on a stick and sings like dream,’” Sebastian says, smiling teasingly. “So, it sucks that I missed him.”

Blaine closes his eyes and laughs a little, waving a hand in the air as if to send the compliment back. Maybe he doesn’t see himself that way. Still, the way his eyelashes lay across his cheeks is a rewarding sight, and so is the pink blush that stains his skin. Sebastian can’t help but smile.

When he finally gathers his things before leaving for lacrosse practice, he says to Blaine, “Could we meet again? I think that I could really use some more insights from you, Blaine. You know, Warbler to Warbler.”

“Sure,” Blaine breathes, the word just barely a whisper, but Sebastian hears it and holds it close. It is like the sound of gentle wind petting against leaves, the quiet chirping of birds in the early morning, the drip of a faucet against a porcelain sink bowl, the crisp creaking of piano keys. It’s easy to listen to a voice like that.

\--

The next time they meet up, they chat in line while they wait for their coffee orders. Blaine is easy to talk to, and fun, he learns. Not many people are. He finds himself enjoying Blaine’s company and not just his pretty face and strangely golden eyes (though they are a bonus).

Sebastian tries to impress Blaine with little mentions of his time in Paris and asks for a shot of Courvoisier in his coffee. He drops flattering nicknames—super hot, bashful schoolboy, killer. He pulls him in carefully and methodically. He thinks it’s working for a moment, because Blaine is looking at him with these wide eyes, saying, “You’re just so, you know, out there,” but then–

“Look, Sebastian, I have a boyfriend.”

His voice is soft and gentle. He speaks kindly, and there is something almost sympathetic in his eyes, but also something like shock. Sebastian is bold. This he knows about himself.

“Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you,” he shoots back. It isn’t exactly polite, but he isn’t trying to be. _This is easy_ , he thinks. This is fun. He is confident and alluring and boyfriends are just minor obstacles in the grand scope of things.

“N-no,” Blaine stutters. He says something about how much he cares about this boyfriend—Kurt, the Warblers have told him.

“He doesn't need to find out,” Sebastian promises. It isn’t the first time he’s offered to be someone else’s affair or one-night-stand. He knows all the right words and when and how to say them.

Somehow Sebastian understands that Blaine will decline before he does. Blaine is too good of a person, it seems. Blaine _likes_ being in a relationship, _likes_ being someone’s boyfriend, and having a boyfriend in return.

Sebastian can’t imagine it. Or: he doesn’t let himself imagine it.

“...He’s _really_ great,” Blaine explains.

“Who’s really great?” a boy asks, suddenly approaching their table from behind Blaine.

If this is Kurt Hummel, Sebastian is not impressed.

“Uh, y-you!” Blaine splutters. “We were just talking about you. Sebastian, this is Kurt, my boyfriend, who I was just, wow—”

“Got it,” he interrupts before shaking Kurt’s hand. His eyes are a clear, light blue, like the way the sun shines on a swimming pool, though devoid of the warmth that sunlight brings. They lack the fondness that Blaine has in his; it’s immediately obvious that he wants nothing to do with Sebastian. _Good,_ he thinks, because he wants nothing to do with Kurt. This is his competition. This is a bump in the road. This is a minor inconvenience, but wholly inconsequential. This is fine.

This is how it goes:

“Pleasure,” Kurt responds. Sebastian does his best to appear disinterested (eyebrows raised, barest trace of a bored smile), which isn’t difficult. “And how do we know Sebastian?” Kurt asks.

Blaine is clearly floundering, so Sebastian says, “We met at Dalton.” He keeps his eyes on Blaine while he speaks, watching the way he laughs and ducks his head. A smile—not a smirk, a _smile_ —spreads across Sebastian’s lips without his permission. Kurt almost fades into the scenery, but Sebastian quickly remembers he’s there and adds, “I was dying to meet Blaine. Those Warblers just won’t shut up about him. I didn’t think he could live up to the hype, but as it turns out…”

Blaine laughs nervously as Kurt slides into a chair beside him and snakes an arm around Blaine’s.

 _This is easy_ , he reminds himself. This is easy and this is fun, and all he has to do is impress Blaine a little more before he gets him into his bed. Sebastian imagines the way Blaine might look beneath him, white sheets twined around his body, dark eyelashes fanned against his cheeks, blush spilled across them; skin golden and shining with sweat.

_Not yet._

“What do you guys say we shake things up a little? I can get you a couple of fake IDs and we can head over to Scandals, in West Lima,” Sebastian offers.

Blaine’s eyes widen even more in surprise. He explains to Kurt what Scandals is and Sebastian inserts a half-truthful anecdote about some boy he danced with last time he was there (and then hooked up with, though he doesn’t mention that part). Blaine couldn’t look more enamored with Sebastian if he tried. Still, he seems to check with Kurt for confirmation about every word he says, anxiously turning his head back and forth between the two boys. In the end, it’s Kurt who accepts the invitation.

“Great,” Sebastian says.

“Great,” Blaine agrees. The expression on his face is one that Sebastian hasn’t learned how to decipher yet. He finds himself wanting to learn it. He finds himself wanting to learn everything about Blaine.

\--

Everything glows rose gold in Scandals’ dim lights. The scent of alcohol is heavy in the air; it’s a little nauseating, but Blaine feels so good dancing pressed up against him. He’s unbuttoned his shirt and his yellow bowtie hangs loosely around his neck, revealing soft, tan skin that Sebastian wants to litter with an array of kisses.

It’s poison. It's pleasure. Both vices and virtues. He knows he shouldn’t feel so proud of the heat between their bodies when he can see Kurt watching them from the bar, angrily chewing on the plastic straw in his drink. But he feels good and the music is loud and his heart beats fast and Blaine is so close to him, he can breathe in the scent of his skin. He lets himself forget about Kurt and watches Blaine dance in the colorful lights, the scene twisting and turning like a kaleidoscope. The beads shake and the colors swirl and then Kurt is standing between them and the scene fades back to gray.

\--

The next time he sees Blaine is during McKinley’s production of West Side Story. Blaine is mesmerizing to watch as Tony. There’s no other way to describe it; Sebastian can’t take his eyes off of him in any scene he’s in. It’s strange how intimate it feels to watch him; Sebastian almost forgets about the rest of the Warblers seated beside him as he drowns in the sweet tone of Blaine’s voice.

Before the show, he had debated whether or not to bring Blaine flowers. He’d never bought flowers for anyone; he hadn’t even been sure where to begin. Was it a weird thing to do for a friend? Was this considered some kind of boyfriend duty, reserved just for Kurt?

Sebastian hadn’t spent too much time musing over it and purchased a small bouquet of sunflowers to match Blaine’s cheerful personality. The waxy paper and plastic cone keeping them in shape are cool and damp on his palms as he makes his way backstage. Blaine and the rest of the cast are still in their costumes. His cheeks are flushed and his forehead is a little sweaty. Still, he looks perfect.

“Hey,” Sebastian says, drawing his attention. He holds out the flowers for Blaine to accept. “You killed it. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Oh!” Blaine exclaims. Surprise blossoms on his face and his lips curve into a delighted smile. “Thank you, Bas. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

 _Bas._ Usually, Sebastian would tell someone off for trying to use nicknames with him, but with Blaine, he thinks he can make an exception.

They only have a few short moments together before the rest of the Warblers show up to congratulate Blaine and pick Sebastian up for the drive back to the Dalton dorms. It’s an unwelcome interruption, but at least it distracts him from the unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach.

It isn’t until later that Sebastian looks up the meaning behind sunflowers. Adoration, loyalty, joy. It’s eerily fitting.

\--

“I don’t like you,” Kurt says to him one day at The Lima Bean while Sebastian admires Blaine’s ass as he gets up for a refill. _What a surprise_ , he wants to reply. Instead, he responds that the feeling is mutual before adding, “Blaine’s too good for you,” and he means it, too. Sebastian may not be nice, but he is honest and right now more than anything he wants Blaine Anderson to be his, maybe in more ways than he had prepared for.

\--

They talk on the phone sometimes. It’s somewhere around here that Sebastian starts to realize that he values Blaine as a friend more than he does as a potential hook-up. _You could be my boyfriend_ , he wants to tell him before he remembers that he’s not supposed to do boyfriends. Sebastian’s never done boyfriends. It doesn’t exactly match his anti-relationship ideology.

Blaine is a good listener though, clever and funny when he needs to be, but equally kind and comforting when called for. He’s easy to talk to and talk with. He can ramble on about anything, especially glee club, and Sebastian lets him. It’s the first time he feels hesitation before he sinks his fingers into the secrets that Blaine unknowingly tells him. Their setlist plans, their weaknesses, their strengths. His nails pierce through them like a knife cuts flesh, and if he wants to beat the New Directions, this is what he has to do.

Maybe he does it because he feels like he’s losing touch with himself. Sebastian isn’t some lovesick teenager—he doesn’t have feelings for people. He gets off with them in bathroom stalls, and if they’re lucky, he’ll call for a second round.

Maybe he does it because no one knows self-sabotage better than Sebastian Smythe.

Maybe he does it so that it won’t feel as painful when Blaine finally sees that he’s too good for Sebastian.

Maybe he truly does it for the Warblers, who have started to look up to him and deserve to win.

Blaine is blissfully ignorant and innocent, and somehow that makes it worse.

He’s never had a friend quite like this before.

\--

Sebastian sees them before they see him. The New Directions—some of them, at least—are seated together, obnoxiously and loudly discussing their Regionals plans for the entire coffeeshop to hear. No one can blame him for taking advantage of this, right?

He hears Rachel say, “Since you guys are so _jazzed_ about Michael, I think he’s a good idea for Regionals.”

“Actually,” Sebastian intervenes, stepping out from behind them. “That _may_ not be the best idea.” He takes in a sip of his coffee, lets the bitterness coat his throat and seep into his words before adding, “Hey, Blaine. Hello, everyone else.”

“Wait, what? What's wrong with it?” Artie asks. The rest of them have matching expressions of confusion and annoyance. Blaine awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. He’s wearing a striped white sweater that looks adorably comfortable on him.

Sebastian can’t look at Blaine when he says it, so he turns back to Artie when he explains, “Because _we’re_ doing MJ for Regionals. As soon as I heard what your plan was, I changed our setlist accordingly.”

They are definitely not happy to hear that.

“ _Excuse me?_ _How_ did you hear?” Rachel snaps.

“ _Blaine_ just told me this morning,” he says, pointing towards the boy in question. “I called him to ask for advice on how to get red wine out of my blazer piping and he would not stop going on about it.”

They all turn to Blaine, rolling their eyes and groaning and scowling. _Shit_ , he thinks. He hadn’t meant to get Blaine in trouble.

“I…may have mentioned it,” Blaine admits quietly, voice calm and face blank.

They bicker amongst themselves for a while and Santana attempts, unsuccessfully, of course, to threaten him before he steers the conversation back to what’s important.

“Alright, so here’s what you guys need to know: I am captain of the Warblers now, and I’m done playing nice,” he tells them, smirking.

He found an opportunity and he took it. But the sad, doe eyes that Blaine directs toward him cause something other than the usual excitement and pride to stir in the pit of his stomach.

It isn’t supposed to be like this. The world is his chessboard, his dollhouse, his puppet stage. For the first time, he feels his fingers start to tremble as he pulls the strings.

\--

The New Directions challenge the Warblers to some kind of musical duel in a parking lot for the right to sing Michael in the upcoming competition.

Sebastian knows he can’t let the Warblers go without having some leg up on the other team, so they make one themselves. He isn’t sure how he comes up with it. He imagines the red ice of a slushie sprayed across Kurt’s expensive clothes, dye seeping into the fabric, leaving stains in cloth and memory. It’s a ridiculous idea, he thinks, but that doesn’t make it any less appealing.

He doesn’t want to admit why he does it. Maybe somewhere underneath his cocky exterior, he recognizes jealousy bubbling in his stomach, but at the moment he pretends that this is just another carefully planned strategy that will lead to an eventual victory for the Warblers. Somehow he gets the idea to add rock salt to the slushie in the hopes that it will stain even more, and maybe if he not-so-accidentally hits Kurt’s mouth, it will ruin the usually sweet taste of the drink.

It goes more like this:

He barely sees Blaine jump forward until after it’s already happened. He’s a few inches shorter than Kurt and at this moment it is the most important thing in the world.

The ice bathes Blaine’s face in a vibrant crimson. Sebastian feels his heart pounding in his chest, acid boiling and rising in his stomach, nausea creeping up his throat as he listens to Blaine’s screams. His vision is shaky and his eyes glaze over and blur and he doesn’t know what’s happening but he knows he has to pretend that he does. He takes in a deep breath and the smell of artificial cherries floods and overwhelms his senses. He pulls his chin up, stands higher, but he finds his gaze jerking back to Blaine strewn across the ground. Kurt’s hand is on his arm, gentle and comforting, comforting Blaine because of _Sebastian_. _What has he done?_

“Oh my gosh,” he hears a girl say. The Warblers don’t stay behind to hear what the rest of them will say next. He takes one final look at Blaine before someone is pulling on his sleeve and hissing, “We have to go.”

Sebastian can’t hear their pounding footsteps as they jog out of the parking lot; the sound is completely drowned out by the pulsing of his heart and the static that fills his ears.

He wonders what it looks like to the others—Warblers and New Directions both. Do they think Sebastian’s upset because he didn’t hit Kurt with the slushie instead? Do they think he’s annoyed that there’s no way he will ever be able to get into Blaine’s pants now? He doesn’t know if any of them really get it. He’s aware of what his reputation is like—he’s worked hard to craft it—but Blaine has always been special. It wouldn’t matter that Sebastian doesn’t know what it’s like to date someone properly, has never dated anyone, he would learn for Blaine. He wants to learn for Blaine.

He thinks about a life with Blaine, going on dates and drinking coffee together. He would take Blaine to Paris and show him all the best places and restaurants. He imagines driving down long roads, listening to Blaine sing along to the radio. Maybe they’d talk about their favorite films and books, or maybe they’d pull over on the side of the road and make out in the glow of the streetlights. In the fantasy, it doesn’t matter what they do, Sebastian is happy just to spend time with him. But the daydream soon fades away and he forces himself to stop thinking about Blaine.

Sebastian doesn’t do nice. He does various boys in the backseat of his father’s fancy car. He does fake IDs at Scandals. He does careful innuendos that make boys blush before he leads them to his bedroom. He doesn’t do nice and most definitely doesn’t do regrets.

Then comes Blaine Anderson. Then comes shame, for the first time, and guilt. The feeling is almost foreign to him.

The irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. Slushies are McKinley’s staple form of bullying. His chest hurts when he thinks about how Blaine received his first slushie from the Warblers. From Dalton. From _Sebastian_.

_Zero tolerance policy, my ass._

\--

Santana tells them that Blaine had to have surgery and it has never been so difficult to feign indifference.

“I don’t know if you heard but Blaine may lose an eye. The same Blaine who was just besties with most of you not four months ago.”

Sebastian sucks in a breath and feels something awful rise in him. He blinks a few times, almost without meaning to, trying to shock himself back into his body. The rest of the Warblers are silent until Trent says what they are all thinking: “Wait, what? Are you serious? Is he gonna be alright?”

Santana keeps trying to aggravate them and everyone is turning to Sebastian for guidance, but he doesn’t know what to do; he can barely hear himself think with how loud his heart beats in his chest. Trent’s jaw is still hanging open. Sebastian worries that his voice will shake when he cuts in with, “Bummer, about Blaine. He was pretty, but he shouldn’t have gotten in the way. That slushie was meant to be for _Kurt_.”

It doesn’t shake. It is as perfect and pristine as glass.

He and Santana duel each other in the form of some kind of sing-off. She is a surprisingly competent partner. Maybe in another universe, the two of them could have been friends.

In this universe, however, they are not friends. They are not allies. They are not acquaintances, even, and they do not tolerate each other’s presence.

“I was better,” she taunts.

He smirks and chuckles under his breath. “You weren’t even close,” he spits, turning to storm towards the exit where he knows the Warblers are waiting with another slushie—free of additives, this time.

“I was _better_. Now tell me the truth; what did you put in that slushie?”

“Rock salt,” he admits. “But it’s okay.”

“What? How is it okay? Blaine had to have _surgery_.”

“It’s okay because I didn’t put anything in this one.”

Red ice splashes across her mouth and neck, dripping down her skin. Her eyes remain pointedly dry. He lets out a silent sigh of relief at this, but then something squeezes in his stomach when he realizes the color of the drink is red again. It looks too much like blood, and he can’t stop thinking about the way Blaine had cried out in the parking lot, trying to claw the red dye and salt from his eyes.

He can only ever seem to make things worse.

Maybe that’s the point.

\--

The New Directions call them to the auditorium to prove that they ‘understand Michael more than the Warblers ever could,’ or something like that. He doesn’t tell his teammates that right now their Regionals setlist is the farthest thought from his mind.

“I could call the police, or Dalton’s headmaster, and get you expelled or even _arrested_ for assaulting Blaine,” Santana threatens once their performance is over. Sebastian sits alone in the audience now, the rest of the Warblers having joined the New Directions on the stage.

The taste of betrayal is heavy and sour in his mouth. He forces himself to ignore it in favor of smiling wryly and playing it cool, saying, “All of this would be just _so_ scary if you had any proof whatsoever.”

“You mean like you on tape confessing?” Santana teases, pulling out a tape from her pocket and dangling it in the air.

The air is suddenly sucked out of his lungs. His heart pounds hard and fast, palms dampen with sweat. His vision feels like it’s shaking. He remembers Santana challenging him, singing with him, asking him, “What did you put in that slushie?” He remembers responding, “Rock salt,” thinking that it wouldn’t matter because his father is a lawyer and why would anyone trust her word over his without evidence?

Fuck.

“But you know what?” Kurt asks as Santana hands the tape to him. “It just wouldn’t be as fun winning Regionals if you weren’t there to suffer the pain of defeat.”

He tosses the tape through the air to Sebastian. He doesn’t register putting his arm out to catch it, but he knows he must have because it sits cool and hard in his hand.

He wonders if Blaine knows that Kurt gave the tape back to him, if Kurt asked him before he did it. He wonders if Blaine even knows that the tape exists.

_Fuck._

Santana pulls him out of his thoughts when she says, “At least now all of your teammates get to see exactly the kind of guy you are.”

Sebastian doesn’t know if he wants to be that kind of guy anymore. It's hard to feel proud of it when the only boy who ever gave him a chance is in the hospital and he’s isolated in a sea of empty seats.

\--

He doesn’t change because Blaine asks him to. He _doesn’t_ ask him to. For a long time, Blaine doesn’t ask him anything, and for a long time, Sebastian doesn’t change. There are no silly conversations under the guise of advice about wine stains, or discussions about setlist decisions. No flirting, no matter how carefully Sebastian selects his words so that they might pass as friendly compliments under Kurt’s harsh glare.

 _Fine_ , he thinks. _Whatever_. Blaine has always been an exception to every rule for him. His feelings for Blaine may be genuine, but that doesn’t mean Sebastian has to change. He's fine the way he is. Sebastian has lost all his chances with Blaine—platonic, romantic, and sexual—so what else is left? He grips this empty shell of himself tighter and convinces himself that he loves it because it’s good, not just because it’s his.

So he moves on and blackmails the New Directions, tries to get Rachel out of the competition to put them at a disadvantage. At least this is something he’s familiar with, unlike the way his guts twist when he looks at Blaine—first in a fluttery, soft way, and then in a guilty, apologetic way. This is something he knows he won’t mess up after so many years of practice in molding the world and the people in it to fit his purposes.

Then comes news of Dave Karofsky in the hospital, and the guilt that Sebastian may have contributed to him being there. Then comes more regrets and apologies. Something inside of him snaps again. It’s permanent, this time; it goes beyond lying in his bed, writing and rewriting the same letter to Blaine that he knows he will never send, trying to figure out how exactly he should apologize when he can’t get the words right no matter what order he puts them in. How do you tell someone _you’re the first boy I’ve ever loved and I don’t know how to handle it_ and _I’ve never had to be nice to anyone before, outside of seducing them, but when I’m with you I want to try?_ How do you tell someone _sometimes self-destruction is self-preservation for me_ and _I never wanted to hurt anyone but I ended up hurting you and that’s even worse?_

Sebastian doesn’t want to feel like a bad person anymore. He doesn’t want to _be_ a bad person anymore. This goes beyond _I’ve lost my opportunity to get into Blaine’s pants_. This goes beyond the bats that blossomed in his stomach at the sound of Blaine’s screams against the parking lot pavement and the hospital bracelet that he knows Blaine wore around his wrist. It goes beyond feeling sorry because he hurt someone he loves (at least he can admit it now, his love for Blaine). He’s sorry because he hurt _someone_.

Maybe a few years ago, he could have ended up like Dave Karofsky, too. He would have sat alone in his hospital bed and regret ever trying to be kind to anyone. It isn’t easy to trust people and it isn’t easy to be nice, but he tries.

_(“That means nothing to me,” Sebastian remembers Blaine saying after he apologized about the slushie. It’s the first time he sees Blaine look angry. His anger is different from other peoples’—silent, almost, and still. But strong. And beautiful, of course, because it’s Blaine, and he couldn’t look anything less than utterly gorgeous even if he tried._

_“Just give me a chance… For far too long I’ve treated everything like it’s some big joke. It’s all fun and games until it’s not.”_

_It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye, is how the saying really goes._

_Someone shouldn’t have had to lose an eye for him to realize.)_

The Warblers dedicate their performance to Karofsky and collect donations for charity, but it doesn’t feel like enough to fix what he’s done. There is no fixing what he’s done, he realizes. He is going to have to live with this for the rest of his life.

He feels like he should have more to say than he does.

He feels and feels but nothing matters in the end, because he doesn’t have more to say. He has nothing to say, nothing worth saying that he hasn’t already said before. Blaine is by no means obligated to accept his apology. He does, however, shake Sebastian’s hand after the performance that the Warblers dedicate to Karofsky, and it says so much and nothing at all at the same time.

If that’s all that he will get, Sebastian will take it in a heartbeat. It’s something, at least, and it’s better than the terrible coldness in his voice when he said, “That means nothing to me.”

\--

Sebastian is eighteen now and no longer captain of the Warblers, but he finds himself at peace with this. He lets his hair get long and he stops reading and rereading the series of forgotten text messages between him and Blaine. He forms a tentative friendship with Hunter Clarington, who stands in the senior commons in the spot that used to belong to Sebastian. He is as clever and sharp as Sebastian knows himself to be, and he has no qualms about exploitation or cheating to get his way.

Maybe if Sebastian hadn’t turned over a new leaf, he would’ve been the one to come up with the plan himself. But Hunter is the one that suggests stealing the Nationals trophy from the New Directions as bait for Blaine to visit Dalton to get it back.

“And then what?” Trent asks, something akin to excitement shining in his eyes. It reminds Sebastian just how much the rest of the Warblers adore Blaine, too.

“And then we convince him to stay,” Hunter replies.

Sebastian doesn’t like the way Hunter views Blaine as some kind of prop to win with, but the ache in his chest at the thought of Blaine attending Dalton with him overrides that initial hesitation. He thinks about Blaine in a Dalton uniform. Maybe they’d walk to class together, study together, gossip about the other students and teachers. Watch movies together. Trade food at lunch. Hold hands.

It’s just a fantasy. He has to remind himself that he and Blaine aren’t exactly on the best terms right now, and he shouldn’t expect Blaine to be too happy to see him, at least not right away.

He isn’t.

“Sebastian,” Blaine says as he walks down the curving staircase. The sun shines on him from the round ceiling window, making his skin glow. He looks ethereal. He’s even more beautiful than Sebastian remembers him to be. “Of course it was you.”

“No, it wasn’t, I promise,” he replies. “I turned over a new leaf, remember? No more bullying, blackmail, or assault this year.”

“That must be boring for you,” Blaine says. His voice isn’t harsh, but it lacks the warmth that used to linger in it, the affection that Sebastian desperately misses now. He doesn’t know if he deserves that sentiment—he’s changed, he knows he has, but his past with Blaine is so messy that he can understand why Blaine may not ever fully forgive him—but that doesn’t stop him from wanting so badly. He wants so much it feels like his chest is caving in. He wants him as a lover or a friend or a roommate or a classmate. He wants him in any way that Blaine will offer. He wants to be good to Blaine because it doesn’t seem like anybody really is, right now, judging by his slightly worn posture and the emptiness lurking in his eyes. It’s barely noticeable, but Sebastian sees and he hurts and he wants.

He already knows that Blaine would be good to him. Good for him.

The scene beside him nearly summarizes their entire relationship: Blaine hasn’t turned to look at him yet, but they walk side by side, so close they almost brush hands. Almost. Blaine still smells like raspberries.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, “it is. Being nice sucks.” He smiles playfully at Blaine, but he keeps his gaze turned away from Sebastian. He allows his eyes to quickly roam over Blaine’s body one last time before he directs him to the library, where Hunter is waiting for him. Sebastian doesn’t enter with them, not yet, but can still hear their voices.

Hunter runs through the script they’ve prepared, as planned, telling Blaine the story of his success at Colorado Springs with his military academy choir.

“Now I’m here to kick things up a notch, and that starts with you,” Hunter informs him.

“That’s very daunting. Where did you put the trophy, Hunter?” Blaine questions impatiently.

Hunter snickers. “Don’t worry, we're keeping it safe. It was just bait, after all,” he admits. “See, you’re a bit of a legend here. I like that. So here’s my offer: your little…‘diversity club’ can have its Nationals trophy back when you rejoin the Warblers.”

“And what reason would I ever have to leave McKinley?” Blaine asks.

“What reason would you have to stay? I heard you only went there to be with Kurt, didn’t you? In fact, I hear, they’ve even nicknamed you ‘Blaine Warbler.’ They know you don’t belong there, so why don’t you?”

He knows this is his cue, so Sebastian enters the library with Nick, Jeff, and Meatbox trailing behind him. Blaine’s face is uncharacteristically set and hard. Maybe Hunter hit a nerve after all. His brow only furrows more at the sight of them.

“We all know the real Blaine, Blaine,” Sebastian says. “Ambitious, driven. Face it: you’re a Dalton boy.”

“Present the blazer,” Hunter commands.

Jeff passes Sebastian a blazer; it’s brand new, so the fabric still sits firmly and stiffly in his hands. He holds it out in front of him. At the sight of it, Blaine’s eyes widen. Sebastian recognizes the look of nostalgia, maybe of regret, in them.

“That won’t work on me,” Blaine insists.

“Then why don’t you try it on?” Hunter protests.

Sebastian moves behind Blaine to drop the blazer on his shoulders. He doesn’t let his hands linger no matter how much he wants them to. Blaine’s back is so close to his chest. If things were different, it would be so easy to pull him close, breathe in the scent of his curls, press soft kisses against his neck or shoulders or head.

Instead, Hunter throws his arm over Blaine’s shoulder and leads him forward. The sight of it makes Sebastian’s arms tingle. It’s ridiculous how much he longs to be in Hunter’s place.

“I don’t want to see a Dalton legend like you sidelined in his senior year,” Hunter says, his words thick and syrupy with charm. “I want you on the winning side. Here with us.”

The other Warblers nod in agreement, maybe remembering the times Blaine had been part of the group with them. It must feel like so long ago now.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sebastian recognizes that this is their last chance. Blaine is a senior now, and so are they. They’ll be graduating soon and will most likely head off to different parts of the country for college. They may never see each other again.

“You know what goes great with a new Dalton blazer?” Sebastian teases. “An impromptu song.”

“What? N-no,” Blaine stammers.

Sebastian interrupts him with, “Come on, just one song for your old buddies?” _Buddies_ , he thinks. Buddies who left him lying on the ground screaming as he tried to rub salt out of his eyes. He hasn’t let himself mull over that memory in a long time. It almost feels like coming home.

“Guys, I didn’t come here to sing a song,” Blaine claims.

Sebastian knows he won’t be able to resist the meticulously composed melodies and harmonies, and he doesn’t. The group looks so right with him at the head, perfect and composed as always. This is how things could have been, maybe in another universe where Blaine never left Dalton at all.

The song ends too soon, and all Sebastian can say to Hunter is, “What did I tell you? Flawless.” And he has told him, so many times.

Blaine abruptly rips off the blazer as if it burns his skin. His hands shake as he offers it back to Hunter.

“Keep it,” Hunter says. “It’s yours. Don’t you think it’s time you came back where you belong now, Blaine Warbler?”

For a moment, Blaine says nothing. He looks down at his shoes and grips the blazer tighter between his fingers, knuckles shifting to white with strain. Hunter gives him a gentle shove and the other Warblers wave goodbye with fond smiles on their way out. Sebastian doesn’t mean for it to happen, but suddenly they’re alone in the library. He thinks it would be more awkward to just leave, so he says, “Um, I’m sorry you had to do that. It was Hunter’s idea, I swear. How have you been though, killer?”

Blaine drops his head into his hands, successfully obscuring most of his face. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and it’s then that Sebastian realizes he’s _crying_. Shit. He hadn’t meant for this to happen, either.

“Oh—I, um, sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can go?” he offers. He’s never had to comfort anyone before; he isn’t sure how to begin.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” Blaine says, sniffling. He rubs his nose with the back of his hand and then drops his arms to his sides. His face is blotchy and flushed pink, skin streaked with tears, hazel eyes watery and full. “Sorry. I just—sorry, I’m such a mess.” He smiles sadly. “I’m sorry I was kind of rude on the staircase earlier. I was just…impatient to get our trophy back. Clearly that didn’t work out.” He gestures to the locked glass case where the golden trophy in question stares back at them.

“No, hey, don’t apologize. You have every right to still be angry with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me,” Sebastian says. He debates reaching out an arm to stroke his back, maybe to console him, but decides against it. “And it wasn’t exactly rude, B, you don’t have to be so nice all the time.”

“I don’t hate you,” Blaine promises. “I’ve never _hated_ you. I was just upset, you know? You really hurt me.” He turns his head to the side and stares off at the wall, as if looking at Sebastian has started to overwhelm him. Sebastian notices that his eyelashes are wet and plastered together. One tear hangs off like a raindrop on a spiderweb. It is both beautiful and devastatingly sad.

“I know. I’m so sorry, Blaine. I never meant for things to get so out of control,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Just for the record, I may not be Hummel’s biggest fan—” Blaine flinches, “—but I didn’t want to hurt him, either. That slushie was never supposed to make anyone end up in the hospital.”

“But it did.”

“It did,” Sebastian agrees, “and for that, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to slushie him anyway, regardless of whether it included rock salt or not. It was wrong of me. There’s no excuse for what I did.”

“Thank you,” Blaine replies and nods.

There’s a moment of heavy silence. Maybe if they were still close, it wouldn’t feel as suffocating as it does now. But they aren’t, and it does, and the stillness is just pressure on his ears.

Blaine walks from where he stands over to one of the leather couches, finally letting his body relax. Sebastian slowly follows and slumps down beside him. He’s careful not to sit too close, not to push at the already flimsy boundaries between them. The couch’s material is smooth and cool on his exposed hands.

“Um,” Sebastian says. He doesn’t usually stumble over his words, but he’s never been this nervous before. “How's Kurt? And everyone?”

Blaine shrinks and draws tighter into himself, returning his gaze to his shoes. He wipes the almost dried tears off of his cheeks just as new ones fall and sink down his chin. “We broke up,” he confesses.

How is it that everything Sebastian says makes things worse?

His initial internal response is something along the lines of: _finally_. Then comes something sadder because Blaine is a crumpled up mess of curls and red eyes that make Sebastian’s heart clench and burn. Even after stopping for a moment to pick his next words carefully, the only thing he ends up saying is, “Oh.” Then he adds, “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” He finds himself meaning it, too. He _is_ sorry that Blaine is upset and hurt by whatever happened.

Blaine shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry. It was my fault.”

“He’s an idiot if he broke up with you.” Sebastian can’t imagine dating Blaine Anderson and giving him up for any reason. He doesn’t say this.

The laugh that escapes Blaine’s lips is bitter. “I cheated on him,” he responds, words cracking like they can barely crawl their way out of his throat. The sentence makes something leap up into Sebastian’s chest, but he can’t identify what it is. Jealousy? Sadness? Hope?

“Oh, hey, don’t cry,” he says, his voice soft in a way he isn’t used to. This time he does reach out a hand, and Blaine takes it. His hand is smaller than Sebastian’s but it fits so well between his fingers. He draws slow, gentle circles over Blaine’s smooth skin in a manner he hopes is comforting. “I’m the last person who’s going to judge you, Blaine.”

“I just…” he mumbles, stopping to bite down on his lower lip, all pink and lovely; Sebastian expects the nervous butterflies that come but not the sinking feeling at the way Blaine’s lip has started wobbling. “I just feel like I’m a bad person.” He looks up at Sebastian and his eyes are so sad that Sebastian feels something shatter in his chest.

“You’re not. You’re a good person who did a bad thing,” Sebastian tells him. “Trust me. I know bad people. You are pure and kind and loving and, yes, you made a mistake, but who hasn’t at some point? You’re not a bad person, Blaine.”

Blaine smiles a little but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t believe him.

Before Sebastian loses his nerve, he blurts out, “This is going to sound really egotistical and narcissistic, but I need to ask: when you, um, decided to cheat on Kurt, why didn’t you call me?” Blaine’s expression shifts and then returns to unreadable blankness. “You knew I was always…interested. And imagining sex with you plus pissing off Kurt are my two favorite things.” It’s a selfish question, he knows. He may have turned over a new leaf but he’s still a work in progress.

Blaine looks down at his knees for a moment and doesn’t say anything. Finally, he responds, “It wasn’t really like that. I don’t even know if it was really, like, a conscious decision, either. I had been crying and I was a mess and I was in a bad place and I just wanted someone to care because Kurt never seemed to have time for me, now that he’s in New York.” Blaine breathes in deeply and squeezes Sebastian’s hand. It makes his heart beat in a strange rhythm. “It didn’t mean anything,” Blaine says. “I know everyone says that, but it didn’t. I think that’s partly why I didn’t call you. I remember considering it and wondering if you were available, but I think it would have meant something. If it had been you. I didn’t want it to mean something. I didn’t do it to make him jealous or to get back at him or to hurt him, even if that’s what ended up happening. I just wanted to see if Kurt and I were really meant to be together and I wanted someone to want me and I wanted to do something other than wallow in my sadness for a while.” He pauses. “Not that there’s any excuse for what I did. It was wrong despite any reasoning I had for it.”

Sebastian nods. He doesn’t think too hard about Blaine’s comment about hooking up with Sebastian meaning something.

“It’s just... I always feel like I _am_ still just ‘Blaine Warbler’ to everyone at McKinley. I feel like I’m watching everything from the outside, but no one is really looking back at me. Except maybe Sam. He really tries.” Blaine breathes in slowly and fully as if considering what he’s about to say next. “Do you…really think I should transfer back? Not just for glee club, I mean. Be honest.”

It hurts him to say it, but he knows that it’s the right thing to do. He wants Blaine to be happy without having to put anyone else’s happiness first. Including Sebastian’s.

“You need to do what makes you happy, Blaine. Don’t transfer for the Warblers like you transferred to McKinley for Kurt. Don’t do it for Hunter or Sam or Tina. Or me. Whatever decision you make, we’ll support you.”

Being in love with Blaine is enough, Sebastian realizes. Blaine is not a prize to be won but a human being, and just spending time with him and loving him on his own is enough. He loves him when they love together and he loves him when he is alone. He would love him if they never saw each other ever again, and he would love him if they saw each other every day.

It is the end of all things. It is a surprising thought and, at the same time, so very familiar.

His hand feels cold and empty when Blaine lets go of it to stand up. He neatly folds the blazer and tucks it under his arm as he starts walking towards the door. “I should probably go. It was good to talk to you, Bas,” he says. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

“I’ve missed talking to you, too,” Sebastian says. It’s a strange sentence to be coming out of his mouth, but it’s intimate and it’s true and it’s his. “Will I be seeing you around soon?”

“Maybe. Your number’s still the same, right?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Good.”

And then he’s gone, and the room is so empty, it’s like he was never there at all.

\--

 **Blaine (7:31 am):** Looks like you might have to show me around on Monday. I don’t know if I remember where all my classes are. :)

 **Sebastian (7:35 am):** i’m honored that you asked me

 **Blaine (7:35 am):** Of course. (You should be, haha.)

 **Sebastian (7:36 am):** have you told your mckinley friends yet? sam and what's-her-face?

 **Blaine (7:38 am):** Her name is Tina, and yes. Sam says he thinks I’m trying to punish myself about what I did to Kurt by exiling myself back to Dalton.

 **Sebastian (7:38 am):** are you?

 **Blaine (7:42 am):** I don’t think so. I’ll miss Sam and Tina and everyone, but I’ll make sure we still talk and see each other on the weekends and after school. I just haven't been happy at school for a long time. I miss being excited to go to my classes.

 **Blaine (7:42 am):** And knowing our competition setlist more than a week before the show.

 **Sebastian (7:43 am):** you have very low standards, but i’m not going to complain

 **Blaine (7:44 am):** I think I made the right decision.

 **Sebastian (7:45 am):** i think you did too. but maybe i’m biased

 **Blaine (7:45 am):** Just a little. ;)

\--

When Sebastian Smythe meets Blaine Anderson again, he’s leaning against a doorframe, dressed in a brand new Dalton Academy uniform. His hair is neatly tamed with gel but still kept soft, carefully curled near his forehead. His eyes are hazel, tender and warmer than Sebastian remembers them to be (warmer than “that means nothing to me”). He gently tugs on Blaine’s arm to pull him into the library, empty of students and teachers alike. Blaine still smells like raspberries.

“You’re here,” Sebastian says. He can’t help but smile.

Blaine laughs and smiles back genuinely. “I am.” There is no residual regret or disappointment on his lips. “I wanted to see you first,” he tells Sebastian. His heart most definitely does not start pounding in his chest at those words. “Nobody else knows I’m back yet. I was worried that it might be too…overwhelming, I guess.”

“I get that,” he says.

It takes a few delicate weeks, but eventually, the two of them fall back into their easy friendship just like they had the first time. The initial awkwardness fades away like ink bleeds out of a photograph exposed to the sun for too long. Blaine Anderson is a bit like the sun, he thinks. Bright and warm and happy and _there_. He makes Sebastian happy, and though he may not erase all the negativity from his life, he certainly makes it easier to cope with.

The rest of the Warblers are ecstatic about Blaine’s return. Hunter puts him to work right away, assigning him numerous solos and duets. If it was anyone else, Sebastian might feel a bit jealous, but with Blaine, he only feels pride; he enjoys watching Blaine perform. They all do. There’s just something about him.

They save each other seats in class, exchange notes, help each other study. Blaine is good enough at overthinking things that he excels in English but always ends up confusing himself in math (even when he already understands the concept). Sebastian offers to do it for him, but of course, Blaine will say something stupidly cute like, “But I need to understand it or else I won’t do well on the test!” and they wind up in Sebastian’s dorm studying for the evening.

“But I don’t get _why_ ,” Blaine questions.

Sebastian holds his fingers up to his temples. “It doesn’t matter why, just do the damn problem, Anderson.”

“Please explain it again, Bas. This is the last time, I promise!”

And Sebastian does, of course, because he can never deny Blaine anything when he looks at him with those eyes (even when it isn’t actually the last time).

Blaine goes to all of Sebastian’s lacrosse games and cheers loudly and passionately in the stands. Somehow he manages to make time for them despite all the clubs he attends and the long drives to see Sam and Tina every week. He invites Sebastian along too, sometimes. They are wary of him at first, especially Tina, who Sebastian learns is very protective of Blaine. Eventually they form an unsure friendship that he starts to enjoy.

No matter how much and how often he wishes to, Sebastian never acts on his feelings for Blaine. Blaine may have reinstated their friendship, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s interested in pursuing a relationship. Sebastian doesn’t even know if he is over Kurt yet; he’s never broken up with someone before and isn’t sure how long is considered normal to wait.

The time does come eventually, though. He doesn’t see it coming.

It goes like this:

They’re sitting across Blaine’s bed watching some animated musical that Blaine “forces” him to see. Blaine’s tucked himself under Sebastian’s arm and curled into his side. His head rests on Sebastian’s chest, his even breaths rocking Blaine back and forth. He hopes Blaine doesn’t notice how quickly his heart is beating. Blaine is singing along softly to the movie under his breath, mostly to himself. It’s just the two of them, alone together. They aren’t doing anything special, but the moment feels sweet enough as it is.

“I want us to stay like this forever,” he tells Blaine.

“‘Like this’ how?” he asks.

What? “What do you mean?”

“‘Like this’ as in right here, in this moment, or ‘like this’ as in friends?”

“I don’t know. Both? Why do you ask?”

Blaine suddenly sits up and crawls into Sebastian’s lap, pressing his lips against Sebastian’s. One of his hands is warm around the back of his neck. Almost reflexively, Sebastian’s hands move down to Blaine’s hips, where he holds his body close and steadies him. The kiss is made up of all the time they’ve known each other and an infinite number of moments. It is all the times Sebastian thought about kissing Blaine but didn’t, all the times he watched him in the light and thought about reaching forward but decided against it. It is all their intimate touches: the way he lays a hand on the small of Blaine’s back to guide him forward as they walk, the way Blaine leans onto him when they come back from Scandals and he isn’t able to walk straight. It is every future second and the feeling of anticipation for those next moments wrapped up into one, and he has been waiting for it for so long that it couldn’t be anything less than perfect.

It comes to a natural end as Blaine pulls back. He’s blushing, Sebastian realizes. _You’re adorable_ , he wants to tell him. It’s the first time he realizes that he actually can.

“That was...okay, right?” Blaine asks, searching for validation like he always does.

“It was perfect,” Sebastian confirms, and it isn’t too long before they’re kissing each other again. Sebastian doesn’t think he ever wants to stop.

\--

_Autumn, next year_  
_New York_

Sebastian is so glad that he and Blaine live off-campus now.

He doesn’t even want to think about the communal bathrooms and cafeteria food, but mostly he likes coming home to Blaine every evening. They get to share a bed and a shower and speak as loudly as they please. Blaine sings in the early morning and there are no annoying roommates to complain about it. They buy groceries together and talk about adopting a pet someday. It is all sickeningly domestic but Sebastian finds himself enjoying it.

He gets home earlier than usual tonight. Blaine is waiting for him on the couch, working on his laptop on what seems like a sheet paper software; it’s probably homework for one of the music courses he studies at NYU. He looks up when he sees Sebastian come in, greeting him with a kiss and then leaning down to peer into the plastic bag that Sebastian carries in one hand.

“My favorite fall fruit!” he exclaims. Blaine’s enthusiastic reaction to everything he loves is captivating to watch. “Thank you! I can’t believe you remembered.”

Sebastian pretends to act insulted. “And why can’t you believe it, killer?”

Blaine just laughs and stands on his tip-toes to press a soft kiss to Sebastian’s cheek as he takes the plastic bag from him and heads to the kitchen.

Blaine cracks open the pomegranate with a knife, letting its seeds fall and spill gently across the cutting board, then pours them into a bowl. They sit on the couch, watching meaningless television and eating with their hands just because there’s no one to tell them not to. The juice from the seeds runs long, red lines against Blaine’s tan skin. Sebastian watches Blaine fight the urge to wipe them against his legs to rid them of the stickiness.

“Here,” he says, dropping a few more seeds into Sebastian’s cupped hands. They eat until their lips are both stained dark red and flushed. When Blaine giggles that Sebastian’s color has started to fade away, Sebastian quickly leans in to press his lips to Blaine’s so that they can share.

Blaine’s so soft, he’s like cream, slipping between his fingers. It is a sensation he thought he’d never get to have, and one he’s so grateful for.

Sebastian knows that they aren’t perfect, the two of them. No couple really is, at least not all the time, but Sebastian thinks they get as damn close as anyone can. He might be a bit biased though.

 _I love you,_ he thinks. He’s never said it to anyone before, not even Blaine yet. A few months ago he might have spent his time overthinking it, wondering if his feelings were true and how he was supposed to know if he _really_ loved Blaine. Now it becomes so clear to him that he doesn’t have to think about it, he just knows. Still, he isn’t sure if it’s too early to say ‘love’ yet, so he turns to Blaine and says, “I adore you.”

Blaine’s skin blooms pink. “I love you,” he responds.

Sebastian immediately presses their lips together and smiles so wide his cheeks strain. “I love you,” he says, placing a kiss on Blaine’s nose. “I love you.” One on his cheek. “I love you.” And then the other cheek. “I love you.” A last one on his forehead. “You are flawless and you are amazing and I love you, B.”

Blaine melts into him, warm and lovely and soft in his hands. Maybe if he watched this scene with another couple, Sebastian would find his words trite. But because it’s him and it’s Blaine, the moment is perfect. He holds it close and hopes he never has to let go of it.

He doesn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. my tumblr is [monstrous-sea](https://monstrous-sea.tumblr.com/).


End file.
